


Kids Will Be Kids

by wtfoctagon



Series: The Adventures of Lorelai L. Danvers [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Gen, from the universe of Supergirl in Training, i know OC kidfic is annoying but i didn't know how to market otherwise, sorry for being the karlena tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10022345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfoctagon/pseuds/wtfoctagon
Summary: a series of one-shots detailing the adventures of Lorelai L. Danvers, Jonathan Samuel Kent, and Conner L. Kent as they brave the challenges of being the next generation of Supers and the only Kryptonian-Human hybrids in existence.Future guest appearances from the batkids





	1. Jon's First Regionals

**Author's Note:**

> It's Jon's first baseball regionals, but all the superparents are busy with a crisis, leaving Lori and Conner to cheer him on.
> 
> in this, Conner is 17, Jon is 13, Lori is 12,
> 
> and Lex Luthor is played by Lee Pace

“Got your snackbox?”

“Yeah.”

“And your water bottle?”

“Yup.”

“What about your tickets?”

“Conner has them.”

“Okay, how about your—“

“ _Mooooooom_.”

“Okay, okay,” Lena laughs, pulling up onto the curb. “I’m just checking, alright?”

Lori rolls her eyes as she unbuckles her seatbelt, gathering up her bag into her arms.

“Mom, Conner’s babysat me like a million times.”

Lena shakes her head as she unlocks the doors and steps out to help her little twelve year old daughter out of the car, smiling a little—Lori’s got admirable self-restraint for a child, having had to train since birth, but she still moves akin to a newborn lamb, not quite sure of her suddenly lanky limbs.

“I know, monkey, but this is the first time you guys have spent the night out alone,” she says, patting Lori’s stray hairs down.

“We’ll be _fine,”_ she grumbles, stamping her feet a little. “He’s already here!”

She straightens up and turns to see her nephew jogging up to them.

“Aunt Lena!”

She grins brightly and pulls him into a hug as soon as he gets to them.

“Conner, it’s good to see you—“ She pulls back and laughs, patting his shoulders. “God, have you gotten taller since I saw you last week?”

He grins shyly, shrugging, still the picture of softness despite his towering stature and fading baby cheeks. “I’m not sure.”

She smiles at him, patting his shoulder again. _Lex’s growth spurt hit him like a truck too_ , she doesn’t say. Conner looks so much like him, before everything went bad, when he was still all gentle smiles and boyish charms.

“ _Hello_ , impatient twelve year old here,” Lori groans, tugging at Conner’s sleeve. “Can we _go_?”

“Okay, okay,” Conner laughs, nearly being pulled down by the little terror. “We can go, don’t pull my arm off.”

“Can I get a hug first?” Lena says as she bends down so that Lori can bury her face in her neck, squeezing as hard as she can without hurting.

“I love you, monkey. Have fun.”

“Love you too.” Lori lets go and grabs onto Conner’s hand, already tugging him towards the stadium. “Bye Mom!”

Conner tries to keep up with the buzzing ball of energy as his aunt laughs and waves them off, stumbling from the imbalance of height difference.

“Lori, _slow down_ ,” he laughs, “We’re like fifteen minutes early—“

“Which means Jon’s been here for fifteen minutes by himself already!” She insists as they reach the entrance of the stadium, nearly shoving her cousin at the volunteer parent taking the tickets. She starts berating him again as soon as they’re past the gates, peering around. “This is his first game without Lois or Clark there, and you _know_ how nervous he gets!”

“I’m sure he’s alright,” Conner murmurs, not even convincing himself. Clark’s always been jittery about Jon’s participation in sports, discouraging it until Lois talked him into letting Jon try—the little boy sometimes gets overwhelmed with performance anxiety, having to balance being too good and not good enough.

Sure enough, when they get down to the field and peer at the benches, Jon’s got his cap pressed down to his eyes, squishing his glasses, one leg shaking, looking entirely too small in his junior league uniform. Conner’s chest tightens at the sight, but Lori beats him to doing anything about it.

“Lori!” he’s not fast enough to stop her from vaulting over the fence. “Wait!”

(In hindsight, he should have expected this. Lori’s always been the overprotective mother hen out of the three of them, despite being the youngest.)

She ignores the adults yelling that she can’t be there, running towards the team bench as fast as _humanly_ possible.

“JONNY!”

Jon pushes up his glasses and cap immediately, brightening up and abandoning his bat to run towards her too.

“LORI!”

Conner winces as they completely fail at a running hug and simply crack their heads together instead, knocking Jon’s cap clean off. He runs a hand down his face and sighs.

It’s gonna be a long night.


	2. Chess Tyrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time that Conner runs away from home and ends up on Lena's doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conner's 11 and Lori's 6- you don't see her perspective at all in this, but by the end she's decided that she's going to protect him.
> 
> Also, Lori's first language is Kryptahniuo. Sorry if I made any errors!

The first time Conner shows up at Lena and Kara’s veranda with tear-streaked cheeks and a small, hastily packed bag in hand, it’s Lena who opens the door.

“Conner,” she breathes, ushering him in from the cold, even though she knows he doesn’t feel it. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he hiccups, wiping at his eyes again, shoulders slumped as she looks him over for injuries. “I know it’s late, I didn’t know where else to go—and I wasn’t sure if the doorman would let me in—”

She bends down and holds his face, murmuring softly. “Hey, hey it’s okay, sweetheart. What happened?”

His entire being trembles, as if he’s holding in earthquakes rather than sobs. “Clark doesn’t want me.”

Her hands tighten on his shoulders. “That’s not true, Conner. Did he say that?”

He shakes his head, wiping a full sleeve over his eyes. “N-no, but I know—“ he hiccups. “We were fighting and he was yelling and—and I didn’t know where else to go, I’m sorry, I can leave—“

“Conner.” She coaxes him to look at her. “You’re always welcome here.”

His face crumples—he hides it behind a sleeve again as his shoulders shake and his breaths come in wet coughs.

She clicks her tongue with sympathy, rubbing his back and leading him into the living room.

“Is-is Aunt Kara here?” He asks hesitantly as she sits him down on the couch.

Lena shakes her head. “No, she’s working late tonight. She’ll be home soon.”

He sighs a little in relief, because—because Kara’s never disparaged him but she reminds him too much of Clark, sometimes. Lena understands. Lena never turns him away, never pushes, doesn’t flinch away ever if he ever does something that reminds her of Lex.

(Clark does. Even Lois does, though she tries to hide it. Kara’s never known Lex enough to flinch.)

“Mommy?”

They both jump as soft footsteps pad down the stairs, and Lori emerges with the teddy bear half her size in one arm.

“Zhi, monkey?”

She stops rubbing her eyes when she sees Conner, only holding the bear defensively to her chest and blinking at him quietly.

He stares back, shrinking a little, because they’re not—they’re not super close, or anything. Conner babysits Lori on the regular, but it’s mostly just him coming over with Jon and sitting quietly in the corner, making sure the two don’t break anything as they horse around.

He’s never really been around Lori without Jon also there.

Lori stares and stares, almost _appraising_ him, unnervingly serious for a six year old—then she pads over to Lena, tugging at her sleeve and whispering softly.

“Kai kypzrhig-odh kryp ni zhehd w hot chocolate?”

He frowns, because she speaks too quickly and fluently for him to pick up much more than the English words tossed in. Lena nods, letting her bound off into the kitchen and hop up on a stool to turn on the kettle.

Conner frowns worriedly and Lena only smiles.

“Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“No, I just… Can I stay here tonight?”

A warm hand squeezes his shoulder.

“Of course. Do you mind if I call Lois?”

He shrinks on himself.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to. I just think she’ll want to know you’re safe.”

She won’t care, the voice in his head says, dark and angry (and he can’t tell if it sounds like Clark or what he imagines Lex would sound like). She’s glad he’s gone and doesn’t have to pretend she cares.

But then he remembers how she holds him, sings him to sleep when his nightmares get bad—how she never ever misses a single parent-teacher conference or cello recital, and he squeezes his eyes and nods.

Lena tousles his hair softly.

“Thank you.”

He pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his breathing, sorting through the sounds of the city around him to drown out Lena’s conversation on the phone. The couple downstairs bickering softly over toothpaste, a cat on the fifth floor purring heavily, the doorman shuffling his feet and yawning, then back to the rumble of the kettle and Lori’s impatient taps on the countertop.

He tries not to think. Because if he thinks, all he can think of is overhearing Clark talking to Mr. Wayne—I never wanted him, he said, how am I supposed to love him when he looks so much like Lex, I don’t understand why he was made—

“Conner?”

He startles a little. Lena rubs his back soothingly, taking a seat beside him.

“I just talked to her. She’s glad you’re safe.”

He curls into his knees miserably. “Is she coming to get me?”

She shakes her head. “No. She’ll be here to pick you up for school tomorrow morning, is that alright?”

He nods. She smiles ruefully and pulls him into a loose hug, running her hands through his hair for a moment.

It’s nice, it’s comforting— he hears her laugh softly, letting him go, and when he looks up there’s a mug being shoved in his face.

He blinks. Lori stares him down, a mug of her own cradled to her chest, waving the hot chocolate a bit impatiently for him to take it.

He glances at Lena for reassurance—she smiles and nods at him, tousling his hair again before getting up. He looks back at Lori, still unnerved by that unblinking _stare_ , but he slowly, gingerly takes the mug.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, uncertain.

Lori cants her head a bit, frowning in that crinkly way Kara does sometimes—before nodding decisively and padding over to the other side of the coffee table opposite him and setting her mug down. Conner watches as she reaches into the lower compartment and pulls out a real, honest-to-god wooden chess set.

Looks vintage, too.

He laughs a little. “I thought L-Corp was famous for making board games go holo.”

She shrugs. “I like solid pieces.” Her words are still a little clumsy around the more difficult consonants, much clumsier than her Kryptahniuo, but well-articulated—it’s adorable. “Makes me feel more powerful when I kill a piece.”

Okay then.

She looks up at him with big blue eyes, finally cracking a small smile that dimples all over her soft baby cheeks.

“Wanna play?”

He laughs again. As if he could say no after she made him hot chocolate and already laid out the pieces.

“Sure.”

The first few rounds, she doesn’t just beat him—she _toys_ with him. She doesn’t even go for the victory when he makes the wrong move after a check, opening himself up to another one, no—she waits until she has a perfect checkmate, as if she won’t accept anything less than a perfect victory and it makes him grind his teeth.

It takes a little bit for him to catch up, start seeing through her strategies—and by the end, they’re not even matched yet, but he’s putting up enough of a fight that she gives him the dignity of an honest effort.

Conner doesn’t remember falling asleep—he’s in the middle of riddling through how to take out Lori’s bishop that’s ready to lock him in a checkmate in a few turns, and next thing he knows it’s dark and he’s being laid gently across the couch by strong hands.

“Poor kid,” he hears Kara whisper gently. A blanket tickles his face as he’s tucked in. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“It’s fine,” Lena laughs softly from a bit of distance away. “He and Lori kept each other busy well enough.”

Kara snorts as she moves away. “I can’t believe she suckered him into playing chess. How’d he do?”

“Impressively well again our little chess monster, actually,” Lena whispers. There’s a soft timbre to it.

“Hey,” Kara murmurs. “What is it?”

There’s a slight rustle, like Lena’s shaking her head. “Nothing, I just… The first day I met Lex, we played chess for hours. It was our favourite thing to do.” She sighs. “He has his smile.”

And he has to stop himself from breaking into a sob, because—because because—Lena says it with _love._ Not repulsion, not horror, not guilt—like she’s proud, like she’s fond of that smile. Like she’s seen something nostalgic.

And for once, he doesn’t feel like such an intruder in someone’s life.

-

(Later, he wonders if Lori’s cold attitude was just a test. The next time he sees her, she just _tackles_ him: _“Connie Connie Connie!”_ she yells, literally putting a bit of a float into her jump so that she can latch onto his back, and he can barely get out a strangled _“HGRK”_ before he’s felled by his tyrant of a baby cousin.)


	3. I'm Not Feeling Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A while after Doctor Destiny's attack on the Teen Titans, Nighstar goes to Supergirl after a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! This was the monthly drabble prompt for Lazybearbear that really got away from me.
> 
> It's set a year after SiT, where Lori is officially Supergirl and also leader of the Teen Titans.

_ “I am Lorelai Zor-El, Daughter of Kara Zor-El, Scion of the House of El,” Lori said, brandishing her saber, her cape fluttering behind her. “And I challenge you to single combat for the hand of Princess Mar’iand’r of Tamaran!”  _

Mar’i’s hands are shaking when she presses one of them to the scanner, her bones still frail from the nightmare. The door to the captain’s suite of the Titans Tower slides open and she feels terrible, awful for just barging in at three in the morning, but she needs to see, she needs to  _ know _ —

Lori groans, startled awake by the sudden light from the hallway. She rubs her eyes and sits up as Mar’i enters hurriedly to let the door slide shut behind her.

“Mar?” Lori squints in the dark, finding the slight green glow of Mar’i’s eyes. “What’s up?”

The gravelly tone of her voice and the way her sleep shirt always slips off one shoulder usually sets butterflies in Mar’i’s stomach, but they get lost amongst the fluttering anxiety. She kneels on the bed next to Lori, wanting to explain, and more than that to reach out and hold her and make sure that she’s there, that she’s real— but her words fail her and her hands stay folded in her lap.

“Hey,” Lori says, reaching over to hold her hand, breaking the distance between them like she always does, because she is the brave one, of the two of them— “you’re shaking.”

Mar’i wills herself to unclasp her hands and hold Lori back.

“Sorry.”

Lori frowns, shaking her head. “What are you sorry for?”

“For. Barging in here. And.” She tries to force her breath to stop shuddering so much but all she manages is a frail little gasp. “Just. Sorry.”

Lori shifts closer to cup Mar’i’s jaw, and she involuntarily leans into her touch.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

Mar’i nods. “I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t mean to wake you, I can go—”

“Hey,” Lori reprimands softly, running her thumb over Mar’i’s cheek. “None of that. Come here. I’m gonna spoon you and you’re gonna tell me about the dream.”

Mar’i doesn’t resist as Lori coaxes her to lie down under the sheets, facing away. An incredible rush of comfort and relief washes over her when Lori folds herself over her back and settles her arms around her, and with it comes another wave of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her body starting to tremble again. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine, Mar,” Lori murmurs, nuzzling into Mar’i’s hair. “I wouldn’t have programmed you into my lock if I wasn’t okay with you coming in whenever. I like having you around.”

Mar’i closes her eyes and tries to believe it, tries to sink into the warmth of Lori’s affection, tries to quell the gnawing anxiety in her chest.

“You died,” she blurts out instead. “It was— it was the duel, over again, and you died, you died every time and I—”

A sob lodges itself in her throat and she clamps her mouth shut to keep it in, shaking uncontrollably in Lori’s arms. Lori holds her tighter and presses kisses to the top of her head. 

“I’m here,” she whispers. “I’m here.”

Mar’i puts one hand over Lori’s and squeezes for dear life.

“He made me relive it so many times,” she whimpers, “Doctor Destiny, he— every time, I watched— I watched the blade go through you and— and you didn’t get up and I’m so so afraid that he’s back and I’m still dreaming, that I’ll turn around and see you bleeding—”

She breaks into sobs, and Lori’s kisses get more insistent.

“I’m here,” she whispers again. “I’m here, I’m alive, I beat that sucker fair and square four years ago,” she chuckles lightly, nuzzling close. “You’re not dreaming. Doctor Dickhead’s locked up in a lead box in Arkham and he’s never coming back. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Mar’i tightens her grip on Lori’s hand, sinking further into her embrace.

“It’s been— months since we beat him, I should be— I’m sorry I’m still—”

“He locked you in your worst nightmare for a week, Mar’i,” Lori cuts in. “You’re allowed to feel fucked up about it. There’s no expiration date on that. You’ll get over it when you get over it. I’m here for you, okay? Always.” She pauses for a beat as she sighs before burying her face in dark hair. “I love you.”

And that— that doesn’t hurt Mar’i as much as it used to, when Lori started being the centre of her world but Lori still looked at her like she looked at Conner or Jon, when their ‘I love you’s were worlds apart in meaning— because, lately, there’s something about the timbre of her voice when she says it. Lately, there’s something more to the way they hold hands, to the way she gets caught gazing at Lori and gets a shy smile, there’s something more that gives Mar’i hope for the one thing she’s wanted so, so much ever since Lori strolled into the palace of her would-be-husband in full Tamaranean dueling regalia. 

There’s something more that scares her, because her hope has already grown past the point of no return, because if that something is nothing after all, it’ll break her so horribly. So she stays quiet, she acts like nothing’s changed. Because Lori has always been the braver one of the two of them— so she waits, like a coward.

“I love you too,” she whispers, slipping into sleep in the warmth of Lori’s arms around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna know how to get your own monthly drabbles? check me out at http://wtfoctagon.tumblr.com/post/161395827596/wtfoctagons-extra-content-masterpost

**Author's Note:**

> im not sure what this is!!! i need to be finishing fics, not starting more!! welcome to hell!!


End file.
